


A Friend

by faeos



Category: NieR Gestalt, Nier Gestalt | Nier Replicant | Nier (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Link, Oral Sex, Sex Magic, Tentacles (kinda), this is explicitly father nier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeos/pseuds/faeos
Summary: After a particularly gratifying bloodbath, Nier tries to "help" Weiss clean up the mess and is struck by a wonderful new idea on how to please himself and his bookfriend. Things get out of hand, and the monsters share a tender moment.It's easy to get carried away when so enamored with another. Of course, they're not lovers. They'rejust friends.(The fic takes place during the five year's timeskip.)
Relationships: Grimoire Weiss/Nier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	A Friend

No matter how many shades fell, the thrill never faded.

The shrine was brimming with specters today. Their host had flooded into the room like rivers rippling dark and gold. The gambit was to overwhelm those who had invaded this sanctuary with sheer numbers.

What were impenetrable ranks to any other were to the shadeslayers as tidy little rows, primed for slaughter.

With a mighty heave, Nier swept the _Beastlord_ at breast-height, the blade propelled by shared will, effortless as it glided through the wispy flesh of his foes.

The chorus of screams was pleasant to his ear, and the stench of iron and rot pervading the shrine incited a quivering joy.

Nier could sense, through all the chaos, that the Grimoire reveled too. Weiss couldn’t hide in posh affectations in the heat of battle. A thick, saccharine cloak of delight enfolded him, and drew Nier in with its gravity, holding their spirits tight together. Rage fed into wrath, the joy of bloodshed chasing out their sorrow, and over and back again, knitting them into one.

Soul and body were warmed by the fire.

Neither would admit to it. Never aloud. But this was their height: _the killing_. Efficient as machines; merciless as lesser gods.

All around them the blood gathered in pools, deep enough to slosh. The walls were decorated by running rivulets. Distorted cries echoed all around.

Nier smiled, teeth ghastly white amidst the darkness, glinting like the metal of the white Grimoire. Giddiness was overtaking Nier, and he knew that deep inside, Weiss was grinning too.

The melodies thrummed through the halls of the sanctuary—a dirge that stirred the fibers of his being. Nier wanted to sing along, possessed by the ancient songs running through his friend’s pages. But all that came out of him was a jubilant roar.

As the sealed verses hummed through Nier’s flesh they removed ache and pain. Such liberation fed the fervor. No longer warm, but burning… yet they couldn’t stop.

Could they stop...?

Dark Hands pulled the shades apart. The wet rippling of rent shadesflesh padded the undertones of the Grimoire’s song.

Spears of wicked magic thundered from spouts of black. They dove through the host and ensnared them within a cages of red nettle. With with every pulse the nettles shrunk, crushing all.

A siphon of shadesblood carried fell whispers. From it shot a lance that danced with mad embers of letter. One after the other, they whorled into shade after shade.

Cold metal beat the life from the shadows, clanging into the stone floors recklessly with the wild abandon of a beast. The strokes were directed by the will of the Word.

The assault was ceaseless. All the blood the shades bled fed into their own destruction. Hopelessness dawned, and the ghostly cries veered from anger to isolation.

_Every breath drawn from lung,_

_every turn of page,_

_every coil of muscle,_

_every line of code,_

_every impact of bone,_

_every sound of song…_

_Sparks of metal; sparks of letter…_

_Together, intertwined…_

_The weaving continued…_

… _until the shadows were no more._

Without an object to focus upon, they staggered heavily, waves of nausea overtaking them. Their bodies were aware and aflame, yet their minds were still lost in bitter haze. They could scarcely discern one self from the other. Thoughts wandered back and forth, interchangeable.

The floor of the shrine was a glassy sheet of red.

The place _reeked._

Their lust was fading, and one of them began to speak words instead of sounds, “…is it… over?”

Nier…

That was _his_ voice, the man thought to himself.

“There are… no more,” Weiss responded, strangely unsure of his own ‘tongue’.

The shrine was peaceful now. No clangs or screams or song. Only silence… calm and arresting…

… _silence._

Withdrawal would be setting in.

Nier closed his eye, sighing with contentment. The blood was still warm at his feet, and his body still basked in the remnant of magic shimmering through his veins.

The darkness was as rays of the sun.

Weiss reeled from the activity, reduced to simple processes and a gnawing void. He felt… tired. So tired that he was no longer alarmed by such an unnatural state for a Grimoire.

It was peaceful, Nier thought.

Lovely, even, Weiss thought.

If only he had more… energy.

He… wanted more…

…but of what?

Suddenly, a geyser of black erupted from the bloody floor. With maddened shriek, a shimmering blade came for Nier’s back, aiming to pierce his heart.

Weiss’ pages unfurled.

“Hold!”

Nier froze.

Magic shot around him, dozens of spires, gleaming all. The shade was dead upon impact, skewered on so many points that it stood still likewise, even as its body slackened and its form began to dissipate.

Nier could feel Weiss’ magic acutely. It pressed against his sides, under his arms, around his legs, against his neck, holding him in silhouette. He was trapped in place by the cage of spires, and the throb of each matched his quickened pulse, as if it were his own body.

The magic was precise, conscious of his form. If Weiss had been one hair off in his aim, Nier would be dead too.

Weiss released the spell, and the magic dissolved into wisps of black.

The shade’s body let flow its blood, a fountain pouring down and drenching Nier from behind. An involuntary shudder left him at the sensation. He found himself shaking from the exhilaration.

_So close to death…_

Weiss drifted closer, inquiring in a low voice, “Nier? Are you all right?”

“…y-yeah.”

“That was perhaps a bit risky, but I had no other choice.”

“Why are you saying sorry?” Nier asked. “You did good.”

“Oh, well. My aim _is_ rather good, isn’t it?” Weiss supplied himself an extra compliment.

“Mhmmm,” Nier nodded sheepishly, casting around the area with new suspicion. There was a lot of blood left over. Usually the soil was poised to soak up their work, but the cold stone of the shrine rejected their offering.

“Let me get this cleaned up,” Weiss said, “I don’t want anymore teleporting nonsense.”

“Thanks,” Nier replied.

The sheer abundance of blood carpeting every reasonable surface made Weiss remark, “…ah, this could take a minute. Keep an eye out, hm?”

Nier nodded, adding a grunt of acknowledgment.

Weiss opened with a hiss, a sinister hum emanating as he began to siphon strands of liquid into his depths. It was mesmerizing to watch the droplets suddenly freed from nature’s law, pulling toward Weiss on currents unseen.

Frighteningly soon the floor immediately around Nier was cleaned, and it was in moments like these that he was glad to have the book on his side.

Nier rubbed at his skin absently. The shadesblood was starting to dry on him, crackling in places.

“Thanks for the save and all, but that wasn’t exactly the kind of shower I needed,” Nier joked dryly.

Weiss chuckled at that, and then turned himself to Nier, closing himself abruptly.

“What?” Nier took note.

Weiss angled down, slowly looking him over.

“…what a _treat_ ,” he growled.

Before Nier could so much as grunt his confusion, a strange sensation overtook all thoughts.

Gentle… but _overwhelming_. The force upon him felt wet, yet it left behind no residue, instead taking away the blood without a trace. If Nier squinted, he could make out the ghostly ripple of dark tendrils, thin as wisps of steam.

Though Weiss was opened, he had himself turned to face Nier, his magic arcing around in pleasant curves. The stoic metal face could scarcely emote, and yet Nier could tell he was being studied _intently... s_ o intently that Weiss did not even seem to care about the drops of fresh blood marring his filigree.

His ebbing pulse, ancient and alien, forced its rhythms through Nier’s flesh.

His heart quickened.

It was hard to stand under such a ravenous gaze, trapped in unseen fangs. Nier averted his eye, casting around for something to lock onto visually. He could feel himself tightening, and shifted uncomfortably, cursing softly as he figured out _where_ the tightness mounted.

The sensation of magic suddenly ceased, and his body was left cold and vacant.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Weiss retracted, “I overstepped…”

Nier shook his head blearily. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You appeared… frightened.”

Nier blinked.

… _frightened?_

He scowled heavily and laid his weapon down, slow and deliberate.

Even though the intuition and natural instinct of his body was shouting at him to run the other way, he turned that energy forward and walked _toward_ Weiss. He stopped before the curious Grimoire and gently tipped him up from the bottom. A trickle of red ran down his crown of decorations, joining the blood that filled the gaps in his design. Nier admired the grisly embellishments. It was as if Weiss were inlaid with ruby.

Nier leaned forward and ran his tongue over the grooves.

A noise of surprise escaped Weiss, but he fell quiet as Nier continued to lap at the blood, his tongue exploring the curls and divots of living metal which resonated in tempo with his pulse. Nier could feel Weiss pressing into him, yearning for the contact—to come _closer_ than what his body allowed.

Nier paused, drawing back enough to glance over Weiss. He remained close, staring unflinchingly, though his pulse betrayed him.

Weiss crept a dark tendril out and held the man’s chin, as if admiring his face, running the tip over the man’s bottom lip. Nier could feel himself sing with excitement, unabashedly anticipating the next move.

After a moment more of consideration, Weiss shoved the extremity into his mouth without an ounce of grace, and pushed down his throat abruptly.

Nier gagged as the magic dove deep, extracting the foul blood he’d ingested from his body. A bliss bloomed through him as his interior reacted to the magic. Despite the wild discomfort of being violently rammed, he was starting to not care.

It felt _wonderful._

He was also _choking!_

Nier grasped at Weiss, tapping repeatedly on his cover, and then moved to shut him, as was his way of saying ‘ _enough'_. The Grimoire retracted the magic only moments later, having finished his extraction, and left Nier staggered and wheezing.

“Don’t eat that,” Weiss said quaintly, as if he were amused, “it’s not good to drink such fetid liquids, you know.”

Nier caught his breath, quirking a brow at the book.

“I’m sure I’ve drank blood before. By accident. I’m _standing_ in the goddamn stuff,” Nier grumped at him, “it’s probably soaking into my skin.”

“Is it, now?” Weiss’ teasing tone made Nier even grumpier, “mind if I continue taking care of that?”

Nier grumbled a sound of approval, watching the remnants on his body diminish magically.

Emboldened, the sensation returned stronger on Nier’s skin. He squirmed as Weiss worked around his body thoroughly, the silky strands feeding into his pages. Even that which had dried liquefied at the Grimoire's touch.

Nier followed a few droplets as they made their journey to his pages. Once they reached the paper, the curious transmutation occurred, each drop becoming glistening symbols of red before disappearing into the shifting sea of ink.

Tendrils worked through his hair, tugging softly. They stroked across his chest, picking up the stray flecks, and continued down, chasing rivulets as they gathered in the folds of his clothes and his skin.

The darkness fanned from the small of his back, arching over his shoulders and over his rear, coiling around his legs.

It was _warm_. And pleasant. Just like sunshine, if such a dark, destructive thing could even be.

He leaned into the force, his full weight a trifle to all that shrouded him.

“That was quite sensual of you…” Weiss mentioned as he hovered around. He was low, his metallic details somehow smirking at Nier. “You made the act of salivating on me… _stirring_.”

“Yeah?” Nier responded.

“Mhm…”

Weiss’ sounds soothed Nier’s body, a dull crave emergent. He might’ve swore at himself for getting worked up all over again, but _damn_ …

Hee thought about the magic inside him. Like swallowing sunlight—as delightful as it was deadly, and all the more tempting for this. That was definitely a _stirring_ thought.

He was too far gone. He knew this. So he had to propose.

“You know,” Nier’s voice was distant as he reveled in the energy generated from Weiss’ workings, “you could’ve made… _gagging me…_ uh, better.”

“Really, now?” Weiss was curious.

“Yeah,” Nier answered, “go slower. Feels nice.”

“Tch,” Weiss retorted, “the blood was getting into your stomach, I was pressed for time.”

“You let me ‘salivate’ on you for a while,” Nier pointed out.

“Well, I…” Weiss chose his words with care, “it’s not every day you’re so bold.”

“You liked that, huh?” Nier tipped his head, a wry smile spreading.

“I already told you… I—” Weiss attention diverted mid-sentence, his focus fully on the spell as it crescendoed at its finish, gleaning the last of the pools.

The dark feast had run its course, the final notes of the intonation closing out satisfactorily. This chamber of the shrine was spotless… or rather, spotless aside from the decay blanketing everything. But as far as blood was concerned, the Grimoire had managed to imbibe the whole of it.

“ _Eugh…_ ” Weiss grumbled, thrumming through his pages as if to shiver, “I don’t think I can hold another drop.”

Nier narrowed his eye, scheming evident, “magic consumes the blood inside you, right?”

Weiss jostled himself, annoyed. “Of course it does! You _know_ this, fool.”

Nier nodded in acknowledgment, still pensive.

“I’d rather not waste this perfectly fine resource doing something meaningless, I might need it later,” Weiss carried on, “there is still the getting out of here to contend wi—”

“Use it on me.”

Weiss flicked his cover toward Nier, the man standing very close, so close that he could feel his breath.

“It won’t be wasted that way,” Nier explained as he stepped closer.

Weiss held still and allowed Nier into his space. The man nuzzled into his cover, resting his forehead on his decorations.

“You’re certainly… _inspirited_ today,” Weiss commented, “ _needy_ , even.”

“Shut up, Weiss,” Nier whispered into his cover.

Clots of darkness formed into hands and began to pet him, from his crown to the small of his back. The presence enfolded Nier once more, and he let out a sigh. Dark hands stroked him again, but this time a claw traced gingerly over his ear and under the line of his jaw.

Weiss held up his chin to get a good look at him. The shocking transparency, how sickeningly enamored this man was at that precise moment with _him_.

How could he ever forget why he agreed to all these silly little foibles?

The Grimoire was enthralled.

His aura was even stronger now. It weighed upon Nier, overwhelming, and soon it walked him back into the walls, the cool of the stone at his back a sharp contrast to the heat mounting.

Nier cast aside the shield on his shoulder, his straps easily thrown off likewise. Before he could move to reach the protector over his abdomen, Weiss was already expertly unhitching it. He hadn’t even realized that his sash was long gone.

Weiss worked with care, knowing how the armor was sentimental. Nier appreciated the attention to detail, yet he couldn’t help but find it funny how impatient the extra care made Weiss, his gentle bobbing growing jagged and sharper with every second ticking.

This colossal magical force was working until its own bindings ran hot, all to undress him in a timely fashion. Nier could feel ghostly caresses on his skin. The eerie sensation raised his hairs, in a way he’d come to understand... and enjoy _._

All this anticipation and excitement over _him_ , some ugly guy. It almost made him feel pretty, like the old days.

Nier stopped his basking and went to unbuckle the belts wrapped around his torso, but as he set to do so, one by one each fell.

A smirk returned to Nier’s lips.

Finally, the layers underneath came free, exposing the man’s natural pale tone. Nier thought the tan line looked funny, but he stopped caring as the hints of touch turned to Weiss bodily grasping his torso, too-large hands snaking down his sides.

The darkness traced his scars, marveling as the tracks glinted pinker the more his flesh became tender and light.

Weiss started to rub along his abdomen, tracing out the shapes in muscle with precision. He massaged below, the muscles growing more tense, and the small noise Nier made incited him to move further down. He continued to massage, until he reached the girding beneath his culottes. Magic worked the pants off with ease, revealing the darksteel chains wound around Nier’s legs and the leather bracing protecting his loin.

Weiss unlaced the bracing instead, revealing that Nier was fully engorged, the tip glistening wet with precum.

That _couldn’t_ have been comfortable, especially considering how long he’d probably had it. Of course, this _was_ Nier, so he was likely more than fine with the pain.

Weiss followed the contours of muscle until he came to the base of his shaft and a tendril ran along his length. He toyed with the head, massaging underneath it, sensing every throb of blood. As he teased his cock, another coil tightened at the base.

Nier writhed, his hands clenched against the wall.

“Is that all right?” Weiss purred.

Nier only gave a grunt of approval.

The Grimoire bumped into his temple, thinking about how his mask and the chains were his only remaining garments. He used the reprieve to snake yet another lash of darkness around his breast, following the curves of his musculature across his ribs. Nier exhaled, arrested in his predicament.

With no small amount of effort, Nier inclined his hand and Weiss could feel a request formulating. Words became Verses, brought alive by sound. Curious, Weiss allowed the magic to come forward from his pages, guided by Nier’s will. Soon, a dark hand stretched forth. No claws, naturally, since Nier was too clumsy to not hurt himself.

Nier placed the spell over his face and wrapped his mouth around a dull finger, working down its length until he nearly choked himself on it.

Nier was far too into his own world to notice, but Weiss was staring at him… trying desperately to comprehend this development.

_What new human sexual ritual was he to discover now?!_

And then it hit him.

“Are you meaning to… fellate me?” Weiss sounded perplexed, “that’s not how I work at all.”

Nier pulled off, looking confused. “Not—” he swallowed, “not even if it’s pretend?”

Weiss gave a longsuffering sigh. “I don’t have the scarcest clue what that would even _begin_ to feel like.”

“ _I do_.”

“Well, if you’re getting something out of it, by all means…” Weiss relented.

“Why don’t you do it?” Nier added with a hazy smirk, stroking along the outer edges of his fanned pages. “I’ll give ya the signal if you start killing me.”

“Must I do _everything_?”

Nier gave up, too frustrated to continue arguing, “never mind.”

“No, no. I am more than capable,” Weiss insisted as soon as Nier showed disinterest.

The Grimoire retrieved the spell from Nier’s control and shaped the darkness how he willed once more, the hand transforming into a singular spire. With but a moment of reflection he unceremoniously stuffed the magic into Nier’s mouth, the motion somewhat... irritated.

A surprised gasp came out of Nier before he relaxed and adjusted his mouth to wrap around the darkness fully. Weiss fed the magic to him until it hit the back of his throat. It ebbed through the cavity of his mouth, a bliss flowing.

And then Nier began to push and pull, sliding his mouth down the tendril and back up, his lips tight around the magic.

This was… _quite provocative_ , Weiss thought to himself as he watched Nier suck in earnest. Weiss felt… something… but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know _what_. A vicious feedback loop continued from this man’s physicality to his mental sphere, and the state of Nier’s mind at that moment was confusing as it was inviting.

The excitement exhibited in Neir’s body matched the patterns in his own pages, like a distorted replica… as if he were of the same flesh. As if he were—

No, it wasn’t the same! Not at all! It was merely secondhand sentiment. He was so intertwined with this man that he… he…

Oh, he was waxing poetic about a boner, wasn’t he?

Weiss turned his attention back to Nier’s dick as it throbbed in his grasp. He stroked along its length once more, though he was purposefully ineffective. Nier couldn’t complain about him holding back with all that magic in his mouth, and that amused Weiss.

But he didn’t want to dally too long…

He started pumping Nier properly, coiling tighter on the upstroke. With a cadence going on one end, he plunged deeper yet into Nier’s throat with the other. The warmth of magic invaded the whole, and Nier’s eye widened with surprise before fluttering shut moments later. The feeling seeped through his chest and abdomen, fading in wisps even further throughout.

Such a reaction to the thrum of Weiss’ power was not a mystery to him. Nier’s heart was close, and every wave of pleasure echoed out for Weiss to receive alone.

Pathetic moans were all the man could manage in this state. How remarkable it was, that the feared shadeslayer laid vulnerable here—at his mercy.

A raw urge sparked somewhere deep in Weiss, and a chuckle bubbled up from within.

Nier tried to thrust into him, seeking reprieve, but he could scarcely function around the way Weiss dove into him, down his throat, spreading the warm tone of magic deep inside until it shone from the inside out.

A soft choke, and Weiss adjusted, fearing he’d hurt him, but an overwhelming pang of pleasure radiated from Nier, a shameless moan in tow.

_Oh._

Weiss was _indeed_ getting something out of this.

And he could get a lot more out of it, he decided. Words summoned within, stringing together into lines of a very special Verse, one which he could hardly refrain from belting out. He edged Nier closer, and began to cast upon himself.

Usually these Words were reserved for Nier’s lips, but today Nier would experience the reaction through their bond. All the bliss, and he’d do it as he was, filled with magic and recourseless. Without use of his own speech, Nier couldn’t impede Weiss. He could only watch.

The white hot words Weiss intoned reactivated the tender portions of his self and elicited a peculiar function. Panging harmonies; overwhelming nonstandard operations, both of these wove into one, and blinding waves of pleasure originated from the input.

The bindings reverberated with the song, all his letters ebbed vivid scarlet in tempo, his metallic features taking on an otherworldly shine.

He couldn’t even hear him anymore, but he could _feel_ him. A rough hand grasped at his pages and hooked onto his covers, squeezing tight enough to warp any lesser book, and this anchored him to the physical.

Nier was a part of him, keen to the spell as it built, his heartbeat in time with the words pulsing bright.

An explosion of light filled the room, and in that moment, their selves overlapped, indistinguishable on every level. Once again, their bodies were confused as to who was who.

The Grimoire was in his rightful refulgence, glowing pure white.

_Fusion_ … and completion…

This was the last Verse, Words programmed to make him feel euphoria at attaining his _true destiny;_ the _final Words_ Weiss should have ever intoned before his life would fade for a lack of meaning after fulfilling his ultimate purpose.

And now, with a little word-editing, Weiss simply used it to get himself off.

He glimpsed Nier below him, the man equally dazed and flushed, looking utterly ridiculous, what with dark magic spilling out of his mouth and his graying hair ruffled. Yet even through the delirium, his gaze was transfixed— _mesmerized_ by the Grimoire—by _him_.

_Oh, what a glorious purpose indeed._

Thankfully, Nier was an incompatible partner, so the Verse of fusion was rendered ineffective. Yet the spell’s more _inspiring_ components lingered, and Weiss was finding it very difficult to focus past the exquisite sensation occupying his whole.

Weiss drew his magic out of Nier, a strand of thick saliva following. The whole appendage was coated with a layer, and so he absorbed it by rote, and the flush of genetic data he gleaned from the intake was immense. His mind was taken by a deluge of knowledge of how Nier was _formed._

It was strange in this light to look at Nier slouched against the wall, panting to catch his breath. He could barely stand, so Weiss aided by pinning him to it.

The high threatened to abate, so Weiss took hold of Nier’s cock again, releasing the coils restraining him so he could pump the full length unimpeded.

Nier’s whole body flexed at the touch, fingers curling into the wall as he struggled to keep himself up. He was _exhausted,_ but even so, he thrust into Weiss, every muscle straining for purchase.

“ _W-Weiss…_ ” the sheer effort it took Nier to speak, his throat was oh-so scratchy… such a desperate thing.

The Grimoire was dizzy from the power. Not even the scarcest veil existed now. They were too raw and weary.

So close, so ready… he felt the finish, echoing from the man to him and back again.

Nier came, full and strong— _loudly_ , too.

Weiss drank it in, the information gleaned from each drop blooming into maddening detail. It was gross and bodily and _human_ , but in this state, Weiss didn’t care. No thinking. Only actions.

_Maybe Nier really was rubbing off on him…_

He studied how the strain fell from his partner’s body and how the wonderful reactions played through in his brain flowed into his flesh, loosing muscles and worry alike.

Nier melted in his grip.

The man had to catch his breath, his mind reeling and his body spent. He couldn’t abate a whimper as the rush flowed away, leaving him completely numb to his own form, but in a fresh, liberated way.

The deep furrows of Nier’s face eased, his eye half-lidded and expression content.

_How beautiful,_ Weiss thought, a dense fog occupying his mind, _how… beautiful…_

Weiss listed, his glow fading fast, and it looked as if he’d fall out of the air. A few sparks split from his banding, fleeting embers of white.

Nier reached out, and as soon as he touched him, the resonance of the Grimoire spread through his body, alleviating aches Nier didn’t realize he had.

“Nier…” the weariness was finally coming up on Weiss, and he found himself lacking words, only mumbling something unintelligible after. 

He rested lightly in Nier’s grasp, allowing himself to be pulled into an embrace, and his overwhelming, immortal presence was teetering sleepily in the man’s arms.

Nier wrapped himself around the book, warmth still radiating, but it was now less like the sun, and more akin to a soothing hearth.

Though he couldn’t admit it in words, the way Nier tucked his body around the book betrayed how precious he found him. He pressed his lips to the top edges, the hum lingering within sweet. 

To any normal person, the earthy, metallic smell coming from a freshly-charged Grimoire would be rotten—accursed, even—but to Nier? It was shelter.

Peacefully quiet, they laid in repose, though a strange doubt refused to leave Nier’s mind.

It was harder to ignore worries when they weren’t about him.

“Do you think this is good for you? That spell?” Nier asked, “you _sparked_ a little.”

Regrets bubbled up to the surface. They always did when Nier got carried away—when he felt _good_.

Weiss was barely coherent, and brushed the worry aside, “…not the most dangerous thing we’ve done today… so don’t fret now, mmm…?”

Though it took a massive effort in such a state, Weiss sluggishly moved his power to comfort the man, returning the embrace by folding him within his own aura.

Nier petted along Weiss’ intricacies, the shapes ingrained into his mind and so wonderfully familiar. His pulse grew slow and mellow, his thoughts drifting, and in this liminal state, he allowed sentimentality to sneak in.

Weiss was right. He shouldn’t fret.

They weren’t going to last long on this quest. This was a fight they had no chance of winning, not realistically. And yet, Nier was so glad he had company on his downfall. He could find solace in this.

Even a losing battle held meaning when fought alongside _a friend._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Writing a book fucking an old man is actually really hard.


End file.
